Out of the Ashes (TeenLock Mystrade)
by SherWatsonLocked
Summary: rated T for now... Gregory Lestrade is a troubled teen who is a victim of his father's abuse. He tries to always protect his mother from it. He is comfortable with who he is and despite his hard front, he is a really nice, smart guy. When he moves and begins high school at King James High, he doesn't expect much to change... then he meets the handsome and mysterious Mycroft Holmes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey! this is my first Mystrade fanfic so please be nice. this will probably have Johnlock later on. Warnings will be attached to each chapter. Not sure how long this story will be, just kinda going with whatever comes to me. **

**Also, i'm not sure of the age for a lisence in England, so bare with me, Greg is a bit of a rebel in ways. This school is made up.**

**Warning: Mentions of alcoholism, smoking, child/spousal abuse, and homophobia.**

**I own none of the characters and such.**

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On the morning of Monday August 19, Gregory Lestrade was heading off to his new school: King James Scondary Private School. It was a High Level school and everyone was shocked when he applied and was accepted, not that anyone would care long enough to look past his front and see his class marks. Greg smokes, deals with homophobic school bullies, takes beatings from his alcoholic father, Mark, and takes care of his mother, Linda. Yet he still gets good marks on his exams.

His mum is sitting up drinking a cup of coffee and reading the post, being mindful of her resent injuries from the night before. Mark was hungover in bed, and will probably stay there until at least noon. Greg grabs his bag and keys then kisses his mothers' cheek. "Bye mum, rest up. See you tonight."

"Have a great day Gregory, I'm so proud of you." She smiles brightly, though it must have hurt to move her face. I smile back.

"I'll pick up some take-away on my way home. Chinese ok?" She nods and he walks out the door and gets on his motorcycle and left.

Greg was 16 and starting year 11. He had been to a new school every year so far, once because he was expelled for violence and another because they were forced to move. First, because people found out Greg was gay, not long after he himself discovered it when he turned 13. All the older boys would push and tease him in the locker room and calling him a "pervert" for supposedly staring at them when they change in and out of gym clothes, which was a complete lie. They would beat him up in the showers and call him a "fairy" or a "poof". One day he just got sick of it and beat the crap out of Jack Farrow, the leader of the group that would beat him up. Both boys were expelled. Greg took up smoking that summer and got his first boyfriend, Victor Trevor. That didn't last long, but Greg got his first kiss from Victor.

The next school was alright. He was open about his sexuality but in his family, only his mother knew.. he was scared that his father might put him in the hospital. He made some friends and they would hang out in the parking lot and smoke during lunch.

Ever since the school change, Mark would come home drunk more and more often, which meant more beatings for both he and his mum. They started when Greg was 8 years old. Mark was going through a hard time job in the government and picked up the bottle. At first, the abuse wouldn't be but maybe once every other month. Now it seems like every one or two weeks. Each occurrence ending with HIM apologizing to both of them and saying he didn't mean to and that he loved them... Linda always accepted that and tried to move on, despite the injuries that littered her body every time. She kept believing he loved her after everything he'd do. So she never left. It just became normal.

Greg, on the other hand... was not so forgiving. He blocked it all out and took the beatings as they came. He was numb to it, never reacted now as his dads hand struck his face or another part of his body. He just did his best to hide his injuries when he was in public and took care of his mother. That's all that mattered now, other than school. Once he graduates, he plans to take his mother far away to whatever university he ends up at, where he can provide and take care of her without the fear that Mark will walk through the door and it will be one of _those_ nights.

Last June, people at the school started getting curious and a bit too nosey about why Greg would come to school cringing away from physical contact and sometimes had pretty bad bruising. We moved away.

So here he was, pulling into this prestigious new school, ready to make something of himself. For his mothers' sake.

Greg just hopes that he can find someone who won't judge him right off the bat. He really is_ not_ a violent person, he's just been forced to put on a hard front from all he's been through. But if he can't find any friends, it won't be like he's lost anything, right? He's always been alone.

Because alone protected him.

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**Please review! Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So here's chapter 2! I'm really excited to write this story, but if anyone has anything they want to see happen, I will consider it and may include it later on ;)**

**Also, I will be traveling tomorrow, so I won't be able to update until later, sorry!**

**Thanks for reading and I do not own anything unfortunately!**

**Warnings: ...No real warning for this one, other than smoking, I suppose, and the fact that Mycroft that we've got little Mycroft here enjoying Greg's view, haha ;)**

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16 year old Mycroft Holmes was bustling about in Holmes Manor getting ready for his first day back to school after a long, dull Summer vacation. His younger brother Sherlock was 9 now and would be starting year 6. The child was a genius, well both of them were really. Sherlock had skipped year 1 and could have skipped again, but mummy had hopes that he could make friends with kids more his age. That never worked of course, but the teachers always gave him more challenging work than the others, though he would still finish before all his classmates. Mycroft rolled his eyes as he thought about it. Neither the Holmes brothers have ever had a friend and they both were ok with that. They were distractions. All that mattered was the Work. Mycroft _could_ have skipped levels like his brother, but he chose to stay where he was and learn things that would advance his knowledge, even though he was always the top of his class by a long run.

Mycroft grabbed his satchel and called for his brother. He was already at the door when Sherlock came into the foyee scowling and Mycroft.

"Why must you drag me to that infernal prison? I'm smarter than all the _apes _they call teachers. Everyone there are idiots," he pouts. "Though it doesn't help their IQ any that _Anderson,_" he sneered, "is even at the school..."

"You act as though it's the worst torture method. I agree that Anderson is torture enough as it is, but mummy is sending you to school to learn and succeed. you've done very well for yourself. Be grateful."

Sherlock just glares at him. They go outside where the black car is waiting and file into the back seat. We rode in silence.

Soon we got to Sherlock's school and he was let off. "Don't set fire to any buildings, brother. Mummy had a fit last time." Mycroft said out the window.

Sherlock scowls and mutters, "_One freaking time!_" and disappears down the hallways.

They arrived at King James about 15 minuets later. Mycroft got out, but before he could close the door, Jeffery, their driver said, "Have a nice day Myc. Don't be afraid to make some friends." He gives Mycroft a small smile.

Mycroft gives him a fake smile and nods. He grabbed his bag and walked away and the car pulled away. Jeff is a nice man, has worked for their father ever since Sherlock was born. He knew the boys had trouble socially, and felt very bad for them, even though they both made up for it academically. He thought every child should have a friend. The Holmes boys never knew a childhood outside school and the society they were forced to be in because of their parents status. But something their father had drilled into both of them whenever they asked why they were so different from other children was "caring is not an advantage". So that's how they were raised. Father was rarely home, however, always on a business trip of some sort, leaving them with mummy the majority of the time. Father was a cold person, but mummy... she was kind. How she ended up with Father, the boys may never figure out.

As Mycroft moved swiftly down the halls to his first class, trying to maneuver though the sea of grey and red uniforms, he passed the car park. Up against the brick wall was a boy he had never seen before, smoking. He wasn't tall or short, had toned muscles. His hair was dark and his skin was fairly pale. His tie was undone, but draped around his neck and his shirt tails were out. The boy was very handsome and-

Wait, what? _Handsome?_ Mycroft had never thought that word and applied it to anyone before. His brows furrowed. That can't be right.

Between the boys lips, he sucked on the cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke. Mycroft's mouth went dry.

Mycroft had known of his sexual preference to men a long time ago, but never had he felt actual _attraction_ to anyone before. He tried quickly to compose himself, but just then, the boy met Mycroft's gaze and their eyes locked. the boys mouth hung open slightly and he licked his bottom lip before snapping out of it and bending over to retrieve his bag and rush off, putting out his cigarette on the wall then stepping on it.

Mycroft certainly did _not _watch him go, just like he _absolutely _did _not_ stare at his arse as he walked, swaying his hips a bit.

And he _definitely did not _think about what a lovely arse and plush lips he had as he left to his first class.

Mycroft sighed, confused by his own response to the boy. This is going to be a long day, he could tell.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey sorry for the late short update. Wifi has been acting up where i am. Sorry!**

**Warning: mild smoking.**

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After the incident at the car park, Greg went off to his first class, Physics. The teacher, Mr. Weatherly, was cool, but Greg's mind was... otherwise occupied...

He couldn't get that boy out of his head. He was quite literally, tall, dark and handsome. He didn't know who the boy was, but Oh, he wanted to. Greg couldn't help but grin wolfishly because he was staring at his arse as Greg had walked away. Not to mention the longing in his eyes when they looked at each other. Greg got butterflies when he thought of it-

Hold up, _what?!_ Did he seriously just think _butterflies?!_ He sighed and swipes a hand over his face, _I really am gay, aren't I?_ He thinks. _And I just met him- not even, more like _saw from afar. _I probably won't see him, besides... who would want to be friends, or... anything really, with me? I'm just the boy that is a punching bag to his dad. That seems to be all i'm good for..._

He was pulled out of his thoughts when the bell rang. Greg got up and took off to his English Lit class. When he walked in though, he stopped dead in the doorway...

_There he was..._

That boy was sitting in the front row, his supplies already out.

Greg snaps out of it and timidly goes up and sits next to him. He can't gather the nerve to speak to the boy, so he pulls out his notebook and pen as Mrs. Jacobsen begins the lecture.

Mycroft glanced out of the corner of his eye and they widened slightly. he tried not to pay much attention to the attractive boy next to him, though they both stole peaks at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. They buisied themselves with notetaking the whole class.

When the bell rang at the end of class, Mycroft hurriedly gathered his things and was the first one out the door. Greg sighed sadly And watched him go.

Mycroft's mind was racing. _The boy is in a class with me AND he sat by me! I didn't at least say hi? Stupid, Myc! And where the bloody Hell is this coming from? Since when have i cared about anything like this?_

Neither of the boys saw each other again that morning. At lunch, Greg went off to try and find the mysterious teen but to no avail. He was disappointed, but went to the same spot from that morning and lit up a cigarette waiting for lunch to end.

Greg looses hope of seeing him again that day, but as he was getting settled into his last class of the day, Classical Civilizations, the door opened and a deep husky voice sounded out. "My apologies Mrs. Lee, Mr. Baker required my assistance after Chemistry class." Greg froze.

"Not a problem Mr. Holmes. Please take your seat." Mrs. Lee said politely.

Mycroft nodded and went to sit in the empty seat next to Greg. Greg looked over at him, gathering all his courage. "H-hi... I'm Greg Lestrade.." He holds his hand out to shake.

Mycroft looks at him for a moment then takes his hand. "Mycroft Holmes."

Greg smiles shyly. "Nice to meet you Mycroft."

And with that, they both paid attention to Mrs. Lee.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry it's taking a bit to update, WIFI is acting up where I** **am. I'm trying!**

**Warnings: Child abuse, language, food deprivation.**

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The next few days went by without incidents. Even Mark was in a relatively good mood, meaning, he had stayed away from Greg and his mother for the most part. He came home buzzed the night of Greg's first day, but they stayed out of his way and he just went to bed early. Though Greg couldn't care less about what Mark was up to in the recent days. He spent most his time doing homework and daydreaming. He couldn't get Mycroft Holmes out of his mind. With his dark, mysterious eyes and beautiful ginger hair. He was tall and lean, but had some muscles and that _voice, God! _So deep and rich it sent shivers down Greg's spine just thinking about it. His lips were lightly colored and looked plush, like a pillow, they made Greg blush because of the thoughts that came with those lovely lips.. To be kissed by Mycroft... That alone sent chills of pleasure through him. He could imagine those lips exploring him, down his neck, his chest and-

"Gregory! Mark! Dinner!" Mum called up the stairs. Greg snapped out of his imagination and crawled off his bed.

"Comin' mum!" He yelled back and left his room at the same moment his parents' door opening and Mark slowly making his way out of their bed chamber. They made eye contact- more like glaring on Greg's side -and held it there for a moment Before walking down the hall to the dining room. Mark sat down and Greg helped his mum set up and move the food to the table as Mark watched. He already had his plate filled when Greg and Linda finally sat to eat. Greg gritted his teeth when he saw that the majority of each tray of food was gone and on Marks plate, leaving little for he and his mum. Greg, not wanting his mum to go hungry, took very little for him to give her a normal size portion. They prayed and ate in silence. Then his mum spoke up.

"How is the new school going, dear?"

Greg looked up, both parents looking at him. "It's fine, I- I really like it there."

"Made any... friends yet?" She asked, a small smile on her face.

He shook his head, knowing what she was asking. "Not yet, but there is a boy in a few of my same classes. I hope to get more acquainted with him." A light blush colors his face and he looks down to try and hide that from Mark. Linda smiles and squeezes his knee under the table.

"Good luck with that. Never had any real friends so why should this be any different." Mark grunted. "This boy would probably use you and take off just like the others. Though you deserved that. Taught you a lesson, i hope..." He went back to eating.

Greg stiffened and his jaw tensed. He put his fork down next to his nearly untouched plate of food. "My friends were good to me. They didn't leave; We did, Mark."

Mark's head snapped up, glaring daggers at Greg. "What have I said about calling me that, Gregory?..." His voice was low are dark.

Greg didn't feel like getting into another fight right now, he was feeling a bit under the weather anyways, so he looked down and picked up his fork agin. "I'm sorry... Father..."

"Damn it boy!" He slams his fist down on the table, mum flinches and Greg doesn't move or look up. "Can't you do anything right?!... Look at me when I'm talking to you, you little piece of shit!" He stands and slaps Greg. "You should be grateful, you know. I put a roof over your head and pay for the food on our table... _And this is the thanks i get, dammit?!_" Another hard slap. He picks up Greg's plate. "You can forget dinner tonight. And breakfast tomorrow. Go to bed, i don't want to see your pathetic face again tonight..." He sits back down and continues eating as if nothing happened. Greg sat there for a moment before getting up slowly. He Kissed his mums cheek lightly.

"Thank you for dinner mum..." She looks up at him sadly and squeezes his hand on her shoulder.

"Goodnight, love."

Greg grabbed some Tylenol and went upstairs to his room quietly and finished his homework, take some medicine and go to sleep, feeling hungry because he hadn't had lunch that day either... Or really much of anything in the past 2 or 3 days... Greg sighed. Oh well, not much he can do about it without putting himself up for danger. A loseXlose situation.

_This can't end well_, Greg thought to himself As he drifted to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: hey! Just letting yall know that this will be the last update for a few days, maybe if i get time- which i doubt i will- i'll update before Wednesday. Im on vacation at the beach with a friend.**

**and... Longest chapter yet! Yay!**

**Anywho, ENJOY!**

**Warning: food deprivation, smoking, dark/angsty revelations. Nothing too too dreadful though.**

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That next morning, Greg woke up feeling worse than the night before. He now had a cough and a fever. He went to get out of bed and had to sit back down because of the black spots in his vision caused by fast movement. He sighed and got ready for school. When he went downstairs, he smelled the bacon and eggs his mum was making and his stomach growled.

"You weren't thinking of disobeying me now were you?" Marks' voice sounded from directly behind him. Greg jumped a bit, shaking his head. Linda turned around from the stove. "Good. Now get outa here, useless boy." He walked passed Greg to sit at the table as mum set a plate full in front of him. He probably made her do this, to torture Greg further by just the smell. Bastard. "And don't think about stopping somewhere on your way, I _will _find out. Nothing today. Got it, boy? Unless you want further punishment?" He said sternly.

Greg nodded. He knew by now not to question how he'd know, because he always _did Know- _Probably thanks to that small government job he has. He grabbed his bag and keys. He gives his mum a small wave then walks out to his motorbike. It was probably a horrible idea to be behind the wheel when feeling so poorly, but what real choice did he have? Couldn't stay home either, the more time away from that Hell Hole the better. He was thankful mum had a job, she needs more time away from life.

Greg pulled into the school and saw a fancy black car pull up behind him. As he parked, the door opened and out came Mycroft Holmes. Greg smiled and walked over to the front wall and pulled out a cigarette.

Since their introductions on Monday, Greg and Mycroft spoke some and sat together in class. Both boys were still very nervous around each other. Today was now Friday and Greg was feeling brave. As Mycroft walked away from the car and to the front entrance, Greg waved "Mycroft!" He smiled.

Mycroft looked over to Greg, surprised that someone would be calling him, let alone Gregory Lestrade. He saw Greg on the wall smoking. Mycroft always thought smoking was a nasty habit, but Greg made it look sexy. He sighed. They had barely spoken this week and this boy was already turning Mycroft's thought process to mush!

Mycroft walked over to him and stood next to him. "Morning Gregory." He says politely.

"Morning Mycroft," Greg smiled. "Smoke?" He offered. Mycroft shook his head and his nose pinched up. Greg chuckled which turned into a harsh cough. He groaned and cradled his head.

Mycroft looked at him concerned. "Alright?"

He nodded and immediately regretted the decision and groaned again. " 'm fine." He mumbled as he tried to right himself. "Just a bit of a cold is all." Greg gave him a smile.

"Could be all that smoke in your lungs too."

Greg shrugs. "If so, so be it." He blew a smoke ring.

Mycroft watched, internally swooning at the image in front of him: A beautiful boy making smoking seem better than sex even though he seemed like sex on legs anyway. He snapped out of it as he realized what the boy had implied. "It'll kill you, don't you care?"

Greg didn't meet his gaze. "Not particularly, no. God could take me now and no one would care. Well, except perhaps mum. She's the only one who gives me something to fight for- let alone the only person who gives a shit about me. No friends or anything like that. S'always been that way..."

Mycroft just stood there dumbfounded for a moment, mouth hanging open slightly. _How could this gorgeous boy be ok with dying right now if it were in his cards?_ "Surely you must have _some_ friends?"

He shakes his head and blows out another puff of smoke. "Had a few friends at my old school, but i doubt anyone else would say they were _good. _They are the ones who gotme on the stick... But that's alright with me i guess.." Greg hasn't dared to look at Mycroft at all in this conversation.

Mycroft was about to say something when the bell rang. Greg put out his cigarette and collected his things quickly, to avoid any questions. He was shocked at himself for how much he just revealed to this boy whom he's barely met. He started coughing again and muttered a goodbye to Mycroft then fled to his first class, moving too fast and became dizzy momentarily.

Mycroft stared after him then went off to his class, thinking about what Greg said. He thought on it all through out class and planned out how he was going to reply to Greg next time they had the chance to talk.

Soon enough the bell for second period rang and Mycroft walked bravely into class, Greg wasn't there yet though. Then he heard a _thud_ outside the door along with books landing on the floor And rushed out to see what happened.

Greg was walking briskly down the hall to his second period, when his stomach started growling and he was feeling very weak. He started getting black spots in his vision and was light headed. Greg staggered and had to hold onto a locker for support and wrapped an arm around his middle, groaning. He fell to the ground and hit his head. The last thing he saw was a worried Mycroft kneeling next to him before everything went dark...

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**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, I was on vacation with a friend and just recently got back. She's teaching me sign language! :D**

**Anywho, I will be leaving ****_again _****on August 2-11. I will try my hardest to get a few more chapters up by then, but I will hopefully be able to post ****_something _****up there, but it may be a bit of a longer wait or possibly short chapters.**

**AND, school starts soon, so postings will start getting harder and harder to get out regularly.**

**Warnings: Language and alcoholism.**

**Please review, and on with the story!**

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The first thing that came back was his hearing. There were footsteps, shuffling of bags, someone typing away on a keyboard. He also heard muffled voices. Greg tried to focus on them and hear what they were saying. He could tell at least 3 different voices- 2 females and 1 male- though he couldn't say who they were.

Next came his sense of touch. His skin was tingling. Greg then felt pressure on his right hand. He was confused, _Where am I? And who would care enough to be here with me?_

Then Greg's eye lids fluttered open and was greeted by a blinding amount of light. He groaned and looked away. His vision started to focus in on the familiar, handsome face that had been in his mind sense first laying eyes on him. His beautiful face now creased with worry and concern.

"_M-myc-...croft?_" Greg's voice was hoarse.

Mycroft let out a sigh of relief, subconsciously still holding and squeezing Greg's hand lightly. "Greg... Are you alright?"

He nods. "Head hurts... W-what happened?" Greg cradles his head with his free hand.

"You passed out on your way to our English class. You hit your head pretty bad. Are you _sure _you are ok?" He leaned forward in his seat, closer to Greg.

"Yeah, I'm-..." Greg turned to face Mycroft and froze at the close proximity of their faces. His heart started racing. "I'm fine..." They stayed in that trance-like state for a moment, before Mycroft cleared his throat and leaned back suddenly and broke eye contact. He realized he was still holding Greg's hand and pulled back, embarrassed. Greg turned away, blushing.

Just then a nurse came in. "Lestrade, Gregory. Lost consciousness and has been out for the past 45 minuets." She looked up from her notes. "So Greg. Do you have any idea how this could have happened? Have you been ill? How are you sleeping recently?"

"Um, I'm sleeping fine, I suppose. I've had a cold for the past few days. That's probably it..." Greg said, not looking at anyone.

"Mm, not completely. It has to be coupled with something else. A common cold isn't something a person normally faints of. When is the last time you ate, young man?" She said.

_Oh shit, _Greg thought. "Erm..." He stared intently at his hands. "Breakfast... yesterday..."

"And what did you have?"

He thought back. "...A few grapes..."

Mycroft stared at him, worried.

"And when did you eat before that?" the nurse questioned.

Greg closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "The dinner 2 nights before that. Had a proper meal my mum made..."

Both the nurse and Mycroft's eyes got big. "Greg, that isn't safe, especially when you are ill!" Mycroft said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Greg looked up at him, shocked that anyone even cared, let alone someone he just met.

"Is that all?... Have you been stressed lately? Your home-life?..." The nurse said quietly.

Greg gulped. "I-I...-" He started slightly panicked when the door burst open and Mark came in, looking very worried. He lay eyes on Greg and rushed over, now relieved. "Oh Greg, are you ok, son?! Your mother and I just got the call!" He kneeled next to Greg, cutting off Mycroft where he sat. Mark smoothed Greg's hair down and pressed a kiss to his forehead and hugged him. Greg had to fight back his repulsion for the man from showing on his face. Mark released him and pulled him up before turning to the nurse. "I'll just be taking him home now. Rest him up, you know. We may keep him home for a day or so, make sure he is ok."

Mark started to almost push him out the door when the nurse said, "Mr. Lestrade, your son has told me he hasn't eaten a proper meal for the last 3 days. Please see to it that he eats something when you get him home."

"Of course." He smiled at her. Mycroft never took his eyes off Greg who was looking down with expressionless eyes. "Come on, _son."_

And with that they were out of the building. When they reached the car park and out of the sight of anyone in the school, Mark all but dragged Greg to the car. He shoved Greg in the backseat then got in himself. Greg sat silently as Mark drove, a bit too calmly for Greg's comfort. That's when he saw them...

At least one 6 pack of beer.

With at least 6 empty cans littering the front seat...

Greg swallowed. He only prayed his mum wouldn't be home when they got back.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! I know I said id get more out before I left but it just didn't work out that way. SO, i'm updating now! However, school starts Monday and updates will be more so delayed! Oh no! Sorry! I promise i will try my darndess to get new chapters out at a resonable pace but i will have 9 hours of scool everyday now plus homework and other shananigans so please give me a break!**

**Warnings: Vivid child physical (heavy) and verbal (equally heavy) abuse, swearing and alcoholism. If this triggers you, please don't trouble yourself And skip it, I completely understand.**

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When they got home, Greg tried to escape his Father quickly, knowing what was coming. Thank God his mum was out. He grabbed some fruit from the kitchen and went up to his room. Mark came through the front door just as he was closing his door. Mark was carrying a bottle of whiskey, drinking it out of the bottle. Greg closes the door and lays in his bed. When he finished his food, he tries to take a nap..

Greg is startled awake an hour later by his Father practically breaking his bedroom door down. He was red faced and his pupils were blown, unsteady on his feet, obviously drunk. He stomped over to were Greg lay on the bed and had his hand around the teens throat in an instant. Greg tried to pry the hand away but Mark would have none of that, he squeezed tighter and pressed down on his windpipe. Greg gasped desprately for air, but his Father only slapped him across the face. _Hard_.

"You _stupid_, pathetic boy!" He fummed. "How the fuck could you let that happen?! That little _stunt_ you made at school? Do you think 'passing out' made you any less of a fuck-up than you already are? Huh?!" _Slap!_ "No! It made you a fucking _bigger_ one!" He pulled Greg up out of the bed by his neck. "You wanna pass out? Fine. I'll give you something to pass out about you worthless peice of shit." He starts dragging the flailing teen out of the room and into the hallway where he presses him up against the wall and starts punching him in his midsection repeatedly. Greg cried out and tried not to breath much because it hurt too much. Eventually the punches stopped and he was being dragged again, but he was in too much pain to care where to. Then, he felt ghosted breaths near his ear. "Hope you enjoy your fall..."

And with that, he push Greg down the stairs. He tumbled along, whacking his head on the wooden posts as he went and jarring his already broken and cracked ribs. When he finally reached the bottom, his head smashed against the bigger floor post to the railing before lying motionless on the floor, the only feeling running through him was pain and all he could think was _**"Please God, don't let him hurt my mum..."**_ as his world when black...

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Not much time passes before Linda comes home and he husband and son are nowhere to be seen. she puts up her coat and sets her purse down in the foyer and calls out "Gregory?" No reply. "Greg?" Still nothing and she becomes worried. She walks into the living room, intending to go upstairs to her sons room. But as she moves to the stairs, she screams in horror at the sight of her bloodied son lying unconscious at the foot of the staircase, limbs directed in a scattered way. Linda runs and kneels next to him and feels for a pulse... It was very light but it was there none the less. She quickly got out her mobil and dialed 999. Once she hung up she set the cell down and curled up next to her son and held him, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry Greg... That I wasn't here for you.. You don't deserve this... I wish I could fix it..."

She held him until the paramedics came and packed Greg into the truck with his mum by his side and they headed to the hospital.

Still no sign of Mark.

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**PLEASE REVIEW! They make my day happier! :3**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry bout the cliffhanger, (not really). And... School is now in session, sooo, updates will be even more delayed, I'm sorry don't hurt me!**

**And I've noticed that i haven't been doing those pesky disclaimers. Well obviously, I don't own Sherlock (what! ****_Gasp_****!) I know right? Sad but true. So this will be my disclaimer for the rest of the story. So here goes:**

**I... Do NOT... Own Sherlock!**

**ok! Moving on!**

**this one is Mycroft, a longer one than usual, and the next one will probably be him too. I know a lot of you are eager to see his reaction to all this...**

**Thank you to all my followers, favs and reviews, i love hearing your feedback!**

**NOW ON WITH THE FEELS!**

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For the rest of the school day, Mycrofts' mind was not really there. He couldn't stop thinking about Greg. He was worried about him... _Worried_! Bloody _Mycroft Holmes_ was worried and having emotions. About other people at that! Good God, what happen? He must have hit his head hard somewhere along the line.

When he got home with Sherlock, his brother knew something was different about Mycroft when he barely paid attention to him all night and into Saturday. He seemed distant.

Sunday afternoon at brunch, Sherlock was trying to make small talk with his big brother, but Mycroft seemed to be on auto-pilot. He finally got sick of it and slammed his tiny fist onto the table. "OK! That's it! What is up with you?"

Mycroft looks startled. "...Whatever are you talking about?"

"You!" He huffs. "You have been so quiet and you look like your thinking all the bloody time recently. Stop doing that, its anoying." He pouts and crosses his arms. Mycroft's brow furrows in confusion. "Oh God, please don't play dumb, I get enough of _really_ dumb kids at school, I don't need you to _plague_ me too."

Mycroft sighs and looks away. "It's fine Sherlock, nothing you need concern yourself with."

Sherlock made a face. "It doesn't have to do with the new kid does it?"

His head whipped around to his brother "How do you know about him?"

Sherlock now seemed amused. "Ever since school started, you've seemed different and now you are completely lost inside that big fat head of yours. Someone obviously had to have done something to change you, however you have been going to that school for a long time and are familiar with its population and generally don't concern yourself with them. So it couldn't be anyone that you know from previous years, so, new, and he has done something to distract you and keep your mind occupied. Like you can't figure him out. The really question is WHAT he did to cause this reaction in you.." He leaned in to hear his brothers response.

Mycroft sighed and looked down. "As usual you are right, but it still is none of your concern, Sherlock."

"But-"

"No, Sherlock."

Sherlock huffed but kept quiet and pouted. It was silent the rest of the evening.

* * *

Soon Mycroft was back to school. Greg was not. Monday came and passed, Mycroft thought little of it, thinking that he probably caught a bug. Tuesday, still a no show for the mysterious dark haired boy. Mycroft started to worry, but he figured he would be back the next day. He wasn't. Mycroft asked around but none of the students knew, let alone cared about the boy. The teachers didn't know and couldn't tell him anyway. He thought he would get a bit more creative than merely asking. He would pull a Sherlock and easdrop.

Mycroft stood outside the teachers lounge while teachers were inside having a meeting. First their talking was boring and meaningless to him, like _how the first month of school went_ or _a fundraiser for some class_. He was about to give up and leave when he heard the name Gregory Lestrade was said.

"Now as most of you know by now," said the principal. "A new student, Gregory Lestrade, is in hospital ICU as of Friday night." Mycrofts' eyes bulge and gasps lightly. "He left here early that day, taken home by his father. That night his dad had gone to the shops and his mum was at work. Gregory needed something from downstairs. Drowsy and disoriented, he tripped and fell down the stairs, hitting his head multiple times on the wall and railing, breaking quite a few bones. He fell unconscious and nearly bled out at the foot of the staircase when his mother came home and discovered him there and calling 999. His father came round later to an empty home, not able to reach his wife or sons' phone and waited around. He got a call from the emergency saying his son was there in a coma in ICU. Since Friday, nothing on his condition has changed, he is still in coma at St. Barts. No telling when he will wake. ...IF he does..." There was a moment of silence. "...For now the matter is not to be discussed with any students by request of Greg's father."

Mycroft sat there for a moment, trying but not succeeding to comprehend this new information. Something felt off. Then he sucked in air that he forgot he needed. _He nearly bled out..._ Mycroft shivered and his brain was slow and he almost didn't hear his que to leave when chairs all pushed out. Mycroft stood and ran from the area as fast as he could. He kept running, mind scatter-brained. He ended up in a secluded area sitting under a tree, curled in on himself. His chest was so tight and he didn't realize he was shaking, eyes wide. All that ran through his mind was 'Greg-coma-stairs-ICU-bleed out-no-dead-NO!-' Mycroft barely knew the boy but somehow he had eased his existence in with Mycroft's. No one has ever been close to Mycroft and that's how he wanted it. 'Caring is not an advantage', his fathers words ran through him and he flinched. No, it was not an advantage... Yet in Greg's case, he didn't care about that. He found that he already did care for Greg. The only other person he cared about was his brother.

As he started processing and contemplating all this, he came to a conclusion that was quite obvious to him now.

He would go to St. Barts ICU.


End file.
